Collision of Worlds
by makotot
Summary: Sherlock gets his most interesting case yet, when a certain little hobbit is sent to the future by a certain wizard's faulty staff. One-shot, fluff. Please review! I do not own Sherlock or the Hobbit


Sherlock and John were walking down the street to their flat. It was late at night, and they had just gotten back from solving another case. There were only a few people out, and it was calm and quiet. The two were talking softly to each other when they heard a small voice asking people in the street,

"Does anyone know how I can get back to the Shire?" Both men whipped their heads around, and finally saw a little man frantically running around. He had dark blonde curly hair, light tan skin, bright navy blue eyes, and was wearing green pants with an embroidered yellow vest and red corduroy jacket. He was shoeless, and his feet were covered in dark curling hair, much like the hair on his head. Sherlock and John exchanged confused looks before walking over to the man.

"Um, can we help you?" John asked, trying to be polite. The man sighed with relief, and looked up at them.

"Finally, somebody is willing to help me!"

"Are you lost?"

"Yes, and I don't know where I am."

"This is London."

"London? I've never heard of this place before. Full of you big folks, I see. What region of Middle-earth is this in?"

"Middle-earth? I'm sorry, we don't know what that is. We're in the country of England."

"England? What in Hobbiton?!" The man looked around in a daze, and it seemed as if he would cry. John did all the talking while Sherlock silently stared at the man, trying to deduce him.

"What's your name?" The doctor asked gently, giving him a smile.

"I am Bilbo Baggins of Bag End."

"Bag End? Where's that?"

"In Hobbiton, in the Shire."

"Um, please don't think me rude, but you're rather short, aren't you?"

"What? Haven't you ever seen a hobbit before?"

"A hobbit? No, I haven't, I'm afraid."

"Oh, Gandalf! If I ever find that wizard, I'll kill him!"

"Gandalf? Wizard?"

"Yes, Gandalf the Grey. Don't tell me you haven't heard of him either! He was trying to make me go on some adventure, and then his staff fired out at me, and the next thing I know, I'm here! Wherever here is. Oh, all I want to do is get back to my smial, with my books, and my armchair, and my garden!" Bilbo took a deep breath, and tears were welled up in his eyes. John opened his mouth to say something, but Sherock interrupted him.

"Bilbo, would you like to come stay with us while we try to find your home?"

"Oh, really, you don't need to-"

"Think nothing of it. I'm sure you would do the same."

"Oh, alright."

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, and this is my friend, John Watson."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson. This is very

kind." Bilbo smiled, and fiddled with his hands behind his back. John grabbed Sherlock by the arm and whispered angrily in his ear.

"What do you think you're doing, Sherlock? Inviting a three foot tall leprechaun from God knows where to live with us?!"

"Only until we find his home, John." The detective smiled mischeviously.

"And how exactly are we going to do that? He says he's from some place called the Shire, in Middle-earth, and apparently, some wizard zapped him to London. What are we supposed to do with that?"

"Find the Shire in Middle-earth, obviously. Now stop being so rude to our guest." John sighed, and shook his head.

"What are you doing, Sherlock?" Sherlock frowned at John before turning to Bilbo and smiling, leading him to their flat.

"This is the best case I've ever had." He whispered into his ear. John rubbed his fingers against his temples wearily. He watched the hobbit look around them in wonder, and he snorted quietly. When they reached the flat, Sherlock had to carry Bilbo up the stairs, because they were too big for him. He set him down when they reached the living room, and the short man nervously rubbed his hands together.

"You must be hungry, Bilbo! Please, come and find something to eat."

"Oh, yes, I am famished. Thank you, Master Sherlock."

"Don't mention it." The detective couldn't help but smile at being called master. Bilbo stepped into the kitchen and watched Sherlock pull things out of the cabinets. He smiled and shouted in delight when he recognized something he had eaten before, and loved.

"Puddin'!" He stretched his little arm up on the counter and struggled to point at a clear container filled with chocolate pudding. Sherlock grabbed a spoon and handed Bilbo the bowl, and he took it gratefully before sitting down in the floor and shoving huge spoonfuls in his mouth. Sherlock and John smirked at each other.

"Oh, I'm sorry! That was so rude. Thank you, Master Sherlock. I'm sorry, I just love puddin'."

"I can see that. Well, that's quite alright, Mr. Baggins." Sherlock smiled at John, who moaned and sank down deeper into his armchair. Everything was silent except for the sound of Bilbo happily eating pudding, until there was a great white flash. Everyone turned their heads to see an old man with long silver hair and beard, a grey robe and pointy hat, and a tall wooden staff, which emanated a white glow. The hobbit quickly stood up, dropping the spoon and container to the floor. He stormed up to the old man, who raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Oh my goodness! What do you have to say for yourself? Get that staff under control!"

"Bilbo! I am so glad to see that you are safe, even if you don't know what is going on."

"Who the hell are you?" Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the man. It looked as if he were going to stop his case.

"I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! Gandalf the Grey, if you must know. A wizard, and a guardian of Middle-earth, though I'm sure you don't know what I'm even talking about. I am deeply sorry for any trouble Bilbo or I might have caused you. It would be best if we get going now." Gandalf gripped the hobbit's arm, and he dejectedly waved his hand at the detective and the doctor.

"Good-bye, Master Sherlock! Good-bye, Master John! Thank you for everything! May we meet again!" He smiled, and then the wizard slammed his staff to the floor. Another flash of blinding white light, and they were gone. Sherlock and John looked at each other with confusion. John sniffed. He was actually sad to see the adorable little man go, even if he didn't really know who or what he was, or where he even came from. Sherlock shook his head and sighed, before voicing his thoughts aloud.

"What the hell just happened?!"

When Bilbo opened his eyes, he was clinging to Gandalf's arm, and they were standing in Bag End. At first he sighed with relief, but then he turned to the wizard, furious.

"What in the Shire was that, Gandalf?! Where were we? Why did it happen?"

"I'm sorry, my dear Bilbo. It seems as though my staff had a rather nasty problem, and sent you to the very far away future. I am sorry, but worry not. I had it fixed. Anyway, as I was saying, it shall be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall tell the others at

once." Gandalf smiled, and then left the hobbit alone. Bilbo stood struck dumb.

"The future!" He breathed, and then passed out in the floor.


End file.
